The fine arts were explored through ample Mormon-theme paintings from Seagull Book and Tape hung around the house. Also, for our viewing pleasure, were numerous paintings by the king of mass production and "painter of light", Thomas Kincade.
Literature was available in the form of the 1992 Encyclopedia. Even though this was only used to look up sexual intercourse, penis and vagina, the mere presence of the collection on our bookshelves was testament to our neighbors how cultured we were. We also had boxes of National Geographic magazines. Once again we only used them to gawk at the orangutan tits on the tribeswoman from the Amazon.
Fine cuisine was an everyday occurrence. As we dined as a family every night we were served only the most cultured food.
Among the best was the poop dog:
Made with a hot dog sliced down the middle lengthwise, fake mashed potatoes plopped in between the folds and ample amounts of yellow cheese sprinkled over the top.
These are then customarily served on Styrofoam plates.
My mom busted this centuries old recipe out on our last trip to Utah. Jared offered to help cook. After my mom instructed him how to create this masterpiece, Jared came to talk to me.
With a serious demeanor he asked me if I had ever heard of the poop dogs. He thought it was a joke. I told him poop dogs are serious as a heart attack.
And then we partook. amen.
